


whatever floats your boat

by shatteredhourglass



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Is TIRED, Cruise Ships, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, SHIELD Agent Clint Barton, Undercover Missions, never hire these men for a mission they are idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 10:03:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22714306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredhourglass/pseuds/shatteredhourglass
Summary: Bucky's undercover mission goes awry. (Steve's going to kill him when he gets back to dry land.)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 34
Kudos: 192
Collections: Winterhawk Valentine's Day 2020 Blind Date Exchange





	whatever floats your boat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hopelessly_me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessly_me/gifts).



> I had a great amount of fun with this. The prompts I went with were 'cruise ship' (which was a delightful change of pace, although I know nothing about boats) and 'met previously but lost number.' (Thank you to Chelsea for the terrible boat pun.) Hope you like it!

“Target’s on the move,” Bucky says.

The woman in the sparkling green dress drifts over to the other side of the bar, one hand firmly planted on the ass of a young waiter. Bucky tries not to visibly roll his eyes. It’d probably ruin his cover - even worse, Steve might notice and start lecturing him.

Fucking hell, this suit is tight. Did they buy it for someone half his size? There’s a reason he doesn’t normally take these undercover missions. Bucky likes shooting things and punching people - and now he’s thinking about it, that isn’t something to brag about, but it’s _simple_. He’s got his hand pressed against his mouth so no one can see his lips move.

“ _Does she have the package?_ ” Steve’s voice is tinny in his ear.

“Nope. Looks like she’s trying to get a _different_ package, though,” Bucky answers dryly.

He can’t see where her hands are now and he doesn’t _want_ to know.

Steve doesn’t laugh, and Bucky does roll his eyes this time. Whatever. It’s Steve’s fault he’s here. If Steve wasn’t so easily recognizable then _he_ could’ve been the one on this damn cruise ship. The boat’s called _Seas The Day_ ; that should’ve been a sign that this was a bad idea.

“ _Keep an eye on her, Buck,_ ” Steve orders, and Bucky thinks about going home to his cat. Alpine wouldn’t make him go out on terrible boat missions. Bucky likes Alpine.

“’nother one of these,” he tells the bartender, gets a new drink shoved across the bench. The bartender looks even less enthused about being here than he does. Bucky sympathizes with him enough to give a more than generous tip.

“ _That money’s supposed to be for information bribes,_ ” Steve says.

“I don’t need to bribe anyone,” Bucky mutters back. “Let me have the alcohol, at least.”

“ _You said she was… interested, right? What if you seduced her?_ ”

“Do I have to?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Steve says decisively. “ _I’d rather you do that than threaten her._ ”

Bucky wants to reply with something snippy and mean, but the bartender’s starting to catch on to his conversations so he just knocks back his drink and then sighs, loud and pointed, and turns around. It makes sense to loosen his tie, open a few buttons at his collar so it looks more ‘rich young bachelor on vacation’ than ‘investment banker with two kids and a mortgage.’

Shit. The target’s disappeared while he was complaining. Of course she did, she’s probably going to sleep with that poor unprepared waiter. Bucky didn’t sign up for this bullshit. He needs a proper holiday, maybe meet a man who he doesn’t have to seduce for a job.

“ _Bucky? What are you doing?_ ”

“Shh,” Bucky hisses out the corner of his mouth. He slides off the barstool he was perched upon and glances around, catches a glimpse of green glitter and shiny jewels heading through the closest door to the outside.

He drops a quick thanks to the bartender and heads in that direction, pushing the door open with his gloved hand. The night air is refreshing on his overheated skin. The temptation to jump overboard is strong but he valiantly resists the urge, turns his attention to where he can see two shadowed figures heading towards the front of the boat.

He can’t interrupt that.

Can he?

It’d be weird. It’d draw too much attention. He’s got to be subtle about this - subtlety’s part of the game when you’re stuck on a cruise ship with only self-obsessed rich people, and even if he’s not enjoying it Bucky’s going to be damned if he fucks it up.

There’s a bang and a muffled _fuck_ from above him and Bucky moves back just in time for a dark shape to fall onto the deck in front of him with a thump. He draws his gun without thinking, aims it between the figure’s eyes as they groan and sit up.

Then he stops and takes a proper look at the heap of legs and black leather. “Hawkeye?”

“Hey baby, what’s your sign,” Clint Barton mumbles, shooting a sleazy grin up in his direction. His eyes light up with recognition a second later, although he might be concussed. “Oh! Heya, Buck.”

Bucky lowers his gun. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Same ‘s you, probably,” Clint reasons. “Keeping an eye on the- oh no, she’s gone. Did we scare her off?”

Bucky glances away from Clint and towards the front of the boat. Sure enough, there’s no one there. They’re the only two people here and it’s them. Bucky swears under his breath quietly and lowers his gun, tucking it back into his jacket before he offers a hand to Clint. Clint takes it with one gloved hand and Bucky hauls him to his feet, has a split second to remember Clint’s taller than him.

“Yeah, we scared her off,” Clint says.

“ _Bucky?_ ” Steve sounds worried. “ _Are you okay?_ ”

Bucky ignores him. Ugh. “ _We?_ ” He scowls at Clint. “You’re the one that dropped out the fuckin’ sky.”

“I thought you’d want to be included,” Clint says defensively.

Bucky sighs heavily and turns away. There’s no point chasing the target now if they’ve blown it, so he chooses to just lean his elbows on the railing and stare out at the dark waves of the ocean. Maybe Steve will take pity and they’ll pick him up early so he doesn’t have to stay on this cruise any longer. He doesn’t even have any casual clothes to wear.

After a minute of contemplation there’s footsteps behind him and Bucky glances sideways to see Clint leaning back against the railing next to him, head tipped back to look at the sky. He’s not wearing fancy rich clothes, just solid black tac gear and a beanie that’s covering his hair.

“I’m sorry,” Clint says.

“About the mission, or…?”

Bucky gets a blank look for that comment. “What else would it be about?”

“You never called,” he bites out.

“ _I don’t think now is the time, Buck,_ ” Steve interrupts.

He’s probably right. Oh god, what’s wrong with him? He wasn’t supposed to mention that out loud, and certainly not the first time he’s seen Clint since he scrawled his number on a purple post-it note for him. It’s _embarrassing_. He regrets saying it immediately, briefly considers just jumping overboard to see if drowning is a thing he can do.

“Oh,” Clint says awkwardly. “I, uh. I kind of lost the paper it was on?”

“Right.”

“No, seriously! I just- I wanted to, and then…”

Bucky’s not convinced. “You could’ve just asked Steve. Don’t you see him when he goes to SHIELD? That ain’t a good excuse.”

“ _Actually,_ ” Steve says. “ _We’re usually in different departments, so I don’t see that much of him when I debrief with Maria-_ ”

“Shut up, Steve,” Bucky says.

The silence takes over for a few good minutes as Bucky stews and Clint does… whatever it is that Clint does when he’s not running his mouth. It’s stupid. It shouldn’t even _matter_ that much, it’s not like he was seduced by Clint’s offers of a cheap pizza and shitty beer. And yet somehow he’d been waiting for the call anyway.

“I thought you’d think I was an idiot,” Clint mutters, looking away.

“Clint,” Bucky says slowly, patiently. “You _are_ an idiot.”

“You never called either!”

“You’re a goddamn _spy_. You don’t exactly have easily accessible contact information.”

“Oh yeah,” Clint says thoughtfully. “Wait. You wanted me to call?”

“Guess I did,” Bucky admits reluctantly, tries not to sigh.

“Huh,” Clint says, and when Bucky looks back over there’s a smile creeping onto his face. “You know, I’ve got my stuff set up on the roof. If you help me up again, I’ve got cards and a bottle of five-dollar whiskey we can share.”

“ _Bucky,_ ” Steve starts. “ _The mission says that if we alert the target, there’s protocol to follow. You need to-_ ”

“You know what,” Bucky says, pulling out his earpiece and tossing it overboard. Steve can deal. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Clint’s answering smile is all the encouragement he needs.


End file.
